User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/Mossflower Country & Beyond/@comment-3135907-20110729180414

Griboz and a fox named Skarvadd have been sent on ahead of the foraging party to scout out the lay of the land. Skarvadd carries an all-metal poleaxe, Griboz a scimitar. The two finally reach the edge of the groves. "I fear we are being watched by many, Griboz my friend," says Skarvadd warningly. Skarvadd is not one of the corsairs but of the other part of the crew, the Northlands clan that makes up the majority of Raznare's forces. He twirls his poleaxe and points. "See, there. A magpie is speaking to a raven. And over there." Four crows are perched high up in one of the pines, but in clear sight of the ground. "I sense more are here, I cain feel it; the beating of a wing, the soft caw every now and then- but above all, the rustling. The rustling of a waiting force, impatient to be upon us. I think we should turn ba- Argh!" Two crows that couldn't wait any longer have flown down upon Skarvadd and a clawing and pecking fiercely. "I'll bring help amigo !" Griboz turns to flee from the pines but is set upon by two others.